


Not All Heroes Wear Capes: More Side Stories

by GilbyJuly4th



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23523124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GilbyJuly4th/pseuds/GilbyJuly4th
Summary: Erase the Blues AwayAnother Not All Heroes Wear Capes Backstory@Spootilious challenged me with a ‘write this in your style’ prompt involving Logicality roommates and Ticonderoga #2 PencilsChallenge accepted!
Kudos: 12





	1. Erase the Blues Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erase the Blues Away  
> Another Not All Heroes Wear Capes Backstory
> 
> @Spootilious challenged me with a ‘write this in your style’ prompt involving Logicality roommates and Ticonderoga #2 Pencils
> 
> Challenge accepted!

Logan had always been sensitive, in a very literal sense. He was nearsighted, so he needed prescription glasses. He could tell who was walking just by the sound of their footfall. He savored the smells of very new books and very old books in a similar way that a sommelier enjoys wine. His love for the Crofters brand of jam was not purely from nostalgia. He could differentiate between artificial sweeteners and organic natural sugars without even looking at the ingredients list, and the former were borderline repulsive. 

As for touch…well, touch was more complicated. 

He knew most normal people did not experience touch sensations the same way he did, particularly with living things. He could feel the pulsating energy of a life force and skin to skin contact was just too much.

However, opening the first chapter of a journal, grazing the tiny groves of microscopic dents in parchment paper, and the feel of a quality pencil in his hand, these were tactile interactions he wouldn’t trade for the world. He occasionally tested his abilities with tasks like turning pages or erasing minor punctuation errors, but the feeling just wasn’t the same. 

For these activities, he liked using his hands. 

And for a very specific reason, his favorite type of pencil of all time would always be Dixon Ticonderoga #2. 

………………………………………………………………………………………

An 18 year old Logan called his guardian Liz within two days of living in his new freshman dorm. He informed her that living on campus wasn’t going to work out because X, Y, and Z and that he should return to her house promptly to avoid any further infractions. An hour later, with several tears shed between the two of them, the situation was diffused for the time being, or at least that’s what Logan thought when he returned to his dorm room. He was about to review the notes that he took of his various syllabi when he saw it. 

On his desk, there was a little blue paper bag with tissue paper and a card. It was not his birthday, nor was it any conventional holiday that Logan was aware of. Regardless, the card was addressed to him.

Logan picked up the card. This was not something someone picked up at random at a chain pharmacy. This was paper that felt like cream and satin and was lightly scented with a faint hint of rosewater. 

The envelope was not taped or (thankfully!) licked, but rather neatly folded into its interior casing. Logan ever so carefully pulled out the embossed custom card stock that was dotted with a simple border of light blue hearts and cursive capital P’s. In contrast was handwriting done in light and clean black ink:

“Hey New Buddy!  
I could tell you were having a bad day and I didn’t want to bother you, but I remembered at orientation how much you liked the pencils they had for our sign-in sheets.  
I hope these help you erase away some of those homesick blues.  
Feel free to pencil me in if you ever need someone to talk to!  
Your roomie,  
Patton <3”  
Logan read and re-read the card over several times. He had barely even spoken to his roommate since he moved in. They had no classes together, and although Patton had originally initiated some small talk, Logan was now realizing he had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he didn’t even take into account how the other young man must be feeling during this time. In spite of behavior that would be considered rude by polite society, Patton had gotten Logan a gift?

He started to touch the tissue paper, but the crinkly noises sounded too sharp for him. So the paper floated above Logan’s head like a little rain cloud while he reached into the bag and grasped the plastic casing inside...

“I’d hoped you’d like it.”

Logan gasped as he spun around in shock. 

Behind him was his almost-a-full-foot-shorter-than-him roommate. 

How long had Patton been standing there? 

He was so good at hearing people walk, was he that distracted?

“I could tell you felt something when you were using it to fill out the emergency contact forms.”

“I have never found their equal. They don’t smudge when you erase, they don’t snap off in sharpeners, the graphite stays intact even with stronger than average pressure.” He paused. His interactions with most people in his age group typically found this clinical description of objects dull. However, Patton was looking up at him with rapt interest. 

“So they do make you happy!” the shorter roommate exclaimed with delight, in a way that wasn’t a question.

“They do” a stunned Logan said “Patton, I…” he stopped “I don’t do hugs, but please understand you have my deepest gratitude”

“You’re welcome kiddo!” his little roommate with auburn locks replied with a sunny smile “Hey, I’m gonna head out for a snack, but when I come back, would you like to watch a movie?”

Out of all of Logan’s senses, he wasn’t great at gauging feelings, his own or others. 

The day before, Logan would have probably declined. 

He also understood it was socially appropriate to “trade favors” as it were when someone offered you an object without solicitation. 

However, he felt something deeper than his senses in this situation. Logan intuitively believed that Patton was truly kind, and there was no reciprocation expected. 

“That would be satisfactory,” he said. “Would you like to pick the movie or should I?”

“We’ll figure it out, kiddo!” Patton particularly bounced “I’ll be right back, don’t wanna miss the food hall closing!”. As swiftly as he came, the smaller roommate was gone.

It wasn’t until Patton had left that Logan remembered the tissue paper was still floating over his head. 

Based on the angle of Patton’s eyesight, there was no way he couldn’t have seen it...


	2. Roman's Christmas Night Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was what Roman’s subconscious was going through in Chapter 13.
> 
> Inspired by the Anon who asked “what if they switched powers...?”

Roman’s dream was vivid.

He walked through the house he recognized. 

The same house he grew up in. 

The same house his mother and brother still lived in now.

There was a tiny toddler on the floor in a green dragon onesie surrounded by toys.

“I know you love me, RoRo,” the toddler spoke without looking up at him, “I can hear you say it in your brain.”

“Always BroBro, but you know know,” the adult Roman said back with a sad smile.

“I’m Godzilla and I will eat all the people of your Candy Land Kingdom!” the little savage declared.

“Ew! Remus, gross!” the grown up couldn’t help but laugh back.

“I won’t chew. I promise.” 

“Godzilla doesn’t eat people, remember?”

“No, but you remember,” the tiny monster said, “he destroys cuz he doesn’t understand and he’s scared.”

“That’s right, Remus,” adult Roman said, “he doesn’t understand and he’s scared.”

“But you’re not scared of anything, right RoRo?” 

A warble rippled throughout the room. The dream dimension changed the walls to a pliable liquid substance.

“Oh,” the small child said sagely, his tone wise beyond his years. “I know what you’re scared of...”

A pounding knock reverberated through Roman’s mindscape, causing the ripples to activate once again. Everything inside this unconscious world felt as cold as dry ice, and just as unforgiving. Suddenly, Roman and Remus’ mother emerged. She was beautiful at any age, but in this dream, she happened to be the same age as the son who conjured her up.

“Mami?” asked Roman in awe.

She walked through him like he was a ghost as she headed to the front door.

There were white men in dark suits and sunglasses.

“Reyes? Valerie Reyes?”

“Yes? What is this concerning?” Roman’s mother inquired with a quiet fire under her voice.

“We have a warrant to claim your prodigy as property of the United States Government and another for your arrest.”

“Under what grounds?!” Valerie demanded.

“Your son has been declared a WMD, and you are hereby extradited to Venezuela for cases of treason and espionage”

“I am an American citizen! I was born here! My children were born here. You can’t do this! We have rights!”

“Not anymore” 

The suits descended, swarming pint sized Remus like a plague of locusts.

Roman helplessly watched his mother melt into the floor, drowning in her own tears and screams.

Roman pawed and pawed at the suits, but his hands, incorporeal as they were, uselessly passed through each and every one of them.

He opened his mouth to scream, but instead it sounded like an extended belted bell tone at the top of his singing range.

It was a rallying war cry.

Suddenly, the roof was ripped off clean with the force of a hurricane.

Roman looked up and saw a giant…

Patton?

“WELL SOME KIDDOS AREN’T PLAYING NICE, ARE THEY?”

Patton’s voice boomed with a new reverberation that sent another wave of ripples through the house.

Every suit looked up in horror.

A purple streak sky rocketed from above Patton’s head and landed on the living room floor, creating another sonic wave of power that knocked the suits off their feet.

“It’s what you fear,” Virgil said coldly, “The oncoming storm is here.” 

The purple clad caped superhero flew a good four feet above the ground waving his hands in a form of incantation.

The suits instantly turned into paper doll versions of themselves and flew away.

Then there was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it, Roman,” Virgil offered, “you still can’t touch it yet.”

Virgil twirled the fingers of his left hand and the door opened on its own accord.

A tall silhouette of a man shown through the threshold.

“Logan?”

“Who else, Roman? All other options have been called for” Dream Logan said dryly.

But then he winked, which Roman had never seen Real Logan do. Ever.

“Now, where is the child?” Dream Logan asked.

“I’m here, Lolo,” toddler Remus called out with sniffles in his throat.

“Aw, did the bad men hurt you, sweetie?” Logan asked with genuine concern.

Remus only responded with another sniffle and held out a finger with a little scratch on it.

“Well, it’s never been scientifically proven that a kiss can make it better,” Logan admitted before scooping up the three year old, “but the few additional antibodies in my saliva may attack negative enzymes.” 

With that, he kissed Remus, and the little bit of blood that was there magically disappeared.

It started to rain. Or at least, that’s what Roman thought at first, until he looked up again.

“AWWWWWWWWWW!” 

Giant Patton was crying. The raindrops were his tears.

“My love,” Logan said, “give me your hand. I can kiss your sadness away as well.”

Patton’s palm descended and Logan tenderly kissed the pressure point between the end of his thumb and his wrist.

“You seem to be a little clammy,” the empathic nerd said as he caressed the giant prep’s skin gently, “are you alright, dearest?”

“WITH YOU? ALWAYS!”

The giant scooped up Logan and little Remus, but Roman wasn’t the least bit afraid.

“This is so pure, isn't it?” he directed at Virgil.

However, Virgil was flying above him and seemed ready to make an exit.

“Virge?”

The superhero stopped in midair.

“Roman, I should go. It’s better this way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can protect you from a distance,” the purple clad vigiliante said, “Patton and Logan are good people. I’m not.”

Before he could fly away, Roman jumped up and grabbed his sleeve cuff. 

“Roman,” Virgil looked down sadly. “I don’t know if I can change for you.”

“Virgil,” said Roman “just stay. You don’t have to change for me.”

The rain started falling again.

“I JUST LOVE, LOVE!” the giant’s sweet honey coated voice said before grabbing both Virgil and Roman into a handheld version of an embrace.

“Pat, you’re gonna crush us with your love,” Roman heard Virgil say playfully in an echo.

“Well, then I guess it’s my job to fix that,” Roman heard Logan reply from an even further distance...

…..

Roman woke up to the rise and fall of an entire entity surrounding him.

Virgil was sound asleep, about twelve feet long, and cradling Roman in his arms the same way Roman was cradling his stuffed bunny.

The actor couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this safe.

Maybe he never had been.

“Goodnight sweet prince,” Roman whispered softly. He planted a chaste kiss on Virgil’s cheek as he nuzzled back into the cozy warmth.

“...an’ fights of angels an’ whatever...” he briefly heard another slurred mumbling of words before he dozed back off...


	3. Mute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil has to use Zoom for his college classes now. What’s that going to be like?

Virgil checked his eye makeup for the fifth time. He couldn’t even say why he cared. Looking good on camera was Roman’s thing, not his. Still, he had no idea what to expect with this Zoom thing, and he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Speaking of, was there anything he was forgetting?

He had asked Roman and Patton to be offline while he was in class, just in case the Wifi got overloaded. (He didn’t ask Logan. Logan had to prep for his class in the other direction, teaching on Zoom himself for the first time later that evening.) 

Virgil’s computer battery was completely charged, but he still had it plugged in, also just in case. 

Roman had even lent him a selfie clip-on light, just in case the lighting in his room wasn’t good enough for video, although Virgil thought that was a little bit extra, even for Roman.

Virgil had prepped for every new ‘just in case’ he could think of. Then there were the regular ‘just in cases’.

The course textbook was bookmarked to the required reading section and within arm’s length, just in case he got called on and needed a reference. 

His notebook was open to a clean page and his mechanical pencil was full of granite, just in case the professor said something that clarified the lesson’s accompanying PowerPoint. 

Finally, here he was fixating on his makeup, just in case, if his classmates had to stare at him, he’d have a mask on, and they’d see something other than an anxious mess of a former drop out to look at.

With one last look in the mirror, there was nothing else left to do but to click on the link in the email. Virgil would be about five minutes early, but he literally couldn’t wait anymore.

Unfortunately, just as the app opened on screen, he felt it.

His vocal chords started to act up.

“Hi Virgil, good to see you!” he heard his professor’s voice say.

The video feed had popped up automatically.

_ Oh G-d, not now. _

_ Why now?! _

“I hope you don’t mind, and I’ll explain this again once the rest of the class gets on, but I’m going to have everyone on mute automatically as they join. From my earlier classes this week, the sound quality for Zoom is just better and more focused that way. If you could just raise your hand or type in the chat when you have something to say, I think that’s going to work best moving forward.”

_ Wait what? _

Virgil looked down at his screen, and sure enough, the little icon for the microphone had a line through it. 

Mute.

“Actually, Virgil, would you mind testing the chat just so I know that you can hear me on your end?” he heard her ask.

It took him a second, but then he found the chat feature.

_ Just, type? _

**_Virgil here_ **

**_Present?_ **

**_…_ **

_ What was the question? Oh- _

**_I can hear you_ **

“Great, thanks Virgil, and thank you for your patience with all this, I know it’s a lot.”

**...**

**_It’s cool, we gotta do what we gotta do, right?_ **

“Exactly. And again, if you have any questions during class, you’re welcome to type them in the chat.”

**_Will do, thx_ **

**_…_ **

**_I mean, thank you_ **

“No problem. Hi Kiera, I was just telling Virgil-”

Virgil sat back as more of his classmates joined in.

He swallowed, and felt…

Normal? 

Really? 

It had come and gone so quickly.

Furthermore, with this “mute” thing, would he not have to worry about speaking in class at all?

“-I also want to add,” he heard the professor continue, “I know many of you are working and studying from home right now and have a lot more going on than just taking this lecture course. On top of that, I also know this isn’t your only online class on Zoom this term, and who knows how long we’re going to be here, right? Now, I don’t know what your other professors will be doing, but I just want to make it clear, if you need to turn your camera off for any reason, that is perfectly fine by me. All I ask is that if you have to exit the class, just ‘private chat’ me to let me know. Sound fair?”

Lots of little yellow thumbs popped up on the screen.

As he didn’t know where that function was at the moment, Virgil gave a thumbs up the old fashioned way.

“Great. Alright everyone. Now, when we left of in person before spring break, we were looking at-”

Virgil had an epiphany as she continued.

Not only would he not have to speak in this class if his voice had a reaction...

...he could turn his camera off if his body had a reaction too.

For the first time ever, he wouldn’t have to miss school because of a random flare up.

“Can anyone tell me what the author meant by that?” his professor asked.

Instinctively, Virgil’s hand went up.

“I see you Virgil, go ahead. You can unmute yourself or type, it’s your choice.”

The college student cleared his throat just to double check, but once he was certain, he pressed the button so his voice could be heard.

“So, I think what she was trying to say was…”


End file.
